


You Were Supposed To Bring Him Home

by VickeyStar



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Anyways, BAMF Zeph, I like Zip, Memory Loss, Peph?, Pip deserved better, Season 4 Finale, Ship name, So spoilers if you havent seen it, Yes., Zeph Whump, Zeph my poor precious child, Zip deserved better, Zip?, all the toothpicks, and just, hunt down the writers of shows, so did Zeph, stab them, with toothpicks, you ever wanna just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:58:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickeyStar/pseuds/VickeyStar
Summary: She’s numb.Her body is sobbing, making animalistic sounds as the screen in front of her shows the RAQ home base explode, until there’s a mumble by her ear and the screen goes dark.





	You Were Supposed To Bring Him Home

**Author's Note:**

> So we didn't see the Pip episode until the day after, because reasons, and we both sobbed.  
> We started this then, have been working on it since, and we've been trying to not use the (~*~) scene change thing so let us know if we did okay with that.  
> But yeah, fuck the writers.  
> Zip (if that is their shipname, we dont know) deserved so much better.  
> We don't know how they'll deal with the whole memory loss thing, kinda feels like a cop out for Zeph's grief and all, but we just kinda figured the power of /love/ would do the trick.  
> Enjoy, ish.  
> ~SleevesCakes/VickeyStar  
> P.S.: The whole Team Awesome Force description thing is definitely added to our quotes list, so you guys might see that quote for another fandom sometime in life.  
> P.P.S.: Also we don't really know what the frickfrack happened to TAF at the finale, just that they're... trapped???? in some alternate reality???? we're confused so we just made it so they took a while to escape the Green.

She’s numb.

Her body is sobbing, making animalistic sounds as the screen in front of her shows the RAC home base explode, until there’s a mumble by her ear and the screen goes dark.

She sobs even harder at that, but feels none of it. She doesn’t feel the arms encircling her, or hear the thudding of footsteps as the other members of Team Awesome Force come running into the room.

She registers that she’s stopped being loud, after a while, the numbness crawling inside her like the spider did to hi—

No.

She feels the fabric of someone’s sleeves eventually, them being wrapped around her, holding her after she fell.

She feels the cold floor, the wetness on her cheeks.

There’s concerned murmuring around her, but she doesn’t pay attention to any of it because he’s _gone_ , and it should _hurt_ , and she _trusted them to bring him ba—_

“Zeph?”

Johnny, she realizes. That’s who’s holding her. Of course. He’s the one who came to tell her.

She thinks she’ll puke at the sight of him.

“Zeph, talk to me.”  
Familiar words, different voice.

Different face, different arms, different person, and never again will he say that to her because he felt like he needed to prove himself, to protect her, to do _something_ , and now he’s d—

Gone.

A hand is on her shoulder now, and she’s hunched enough in Johnny’s lap to recognize Pree’s rings.

“Oh, sweetie.” Pree says, voice sad, almost… pitying.

That shakes her to her bones.

She has been forced to endure people’s pity her entire life, she won’t stand for it now.

She shakes Pree’s hand off of her shoulder and moves out of Johnny’s embrace, ignoring everyone as she goes back to twisting the wires together.

She’s so focused on her job of cutting, stripping, reconnecting, and guiding the wires that she doesn’t notice when Johnny asks everyone to leave the room, that he’ll handle this.

She doesn’t look at him when he hands her the tools and parts she needs but never asks for, and he silently stays, a steady presence in the room.

She doesn’t know how long they’re in there, her focusing on the wires, and when she figures that out, she sets a program to deal with the scars and moves onto other projects, the ones she let slip to the side in order to focus on getting that damn spider out of Pi—

Time passes.

She finally looks up to see Johnny sitting in a corner and chewing on some green rice.

He notices her looking, wordlessly holds the bowl out.

She bites her lower lip, a glance at the clock letting her know that he’s been with her for going on two days, and he definitely looks the part.

Johnny smiles, understanding.

At his nod, she takes the bowl and he pulls another one, chicken, from the smell, and starts eating from that.

She slowly but surely lets her hands relax after getting zapped and cramped from all of the circuits she’s been working on, making her way through the bowl of rice as she realizes exactly how hungry not eating for two days makes her.

She doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until she hears hushed tones around her, the motion of being carried in someone’s arms registering.

She thoughtlessly snuggles in, mumbling thanks to who she’s certain is Pip, because it’s _always_ Pip who knows how to trick her into sleeping, knows to let her work until she can’t stand sometimes, carrying her _just like this_ to their shared bed that they never actually fully addressed their sleeping arrangement in, just letting it happen.

The arms stiffen for a moment, before relaxing and continuing forward.

She vaguely notices his smell, and something in her mind pauses.

Pip would never smell like gunpowder.

The arms put her down, onto a bed, _their_ bed, and she immediately curls into it, flipping half of the comforter over and folding it around her instead of lifting it and sliding under.

There’s a small chuckle that some part of her brain recognizes _D’avin_ , but she doesn’t care because she smells _Pip_.

She sleeps.

When she wakes, hours have passed. She refuses to cry, going back to her lab and compiling data on the green pool.

When the others come in, arguing about arresting the woman who looks like, but _isn’t_ Dutch, she speaks up, saying something about testosterone.

The chick who looks like Dutch speaks to her with a commiserating tone, like they’re _friends_.

She doesn’t even like the _real_ Dutch at the moment, forget about this one.

She finishes packing her equipment after the others have sorted everything out and Team Awesome Force have entered the green pool, says goodbye to Turin, who gruffly shakes her hand and awkwardly shuffles around a response.

She enters Pree’s bar a few days later, he takes one look at her and gives her Pawter’s old office and living space, above the bar, for free.

She spends two weeks holed up in her room, Pree and Gared trying and failing to coax her out and into civilization when Fairuza spays her a visit.

“I heard the news.”

She lets the former scarback in, knowing full well she would just break in if she doesn’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

The first words she’s said since saying goodbye to Turin, and her voice sounds almost as wrecked as the rest of her is.

“I know.”

Fairuza surprises her, pulling her up from where she sat on her bed and into a fierce hug.

It takes her a second to remember what to do, but she gets there eventually, wrapping her arms around the former scarback and feeling confused.

Fairuza pulls back, holding her at arm’s length.

“The bartender guy and his hubby are worried about you. Go see them, after a shower.” Fairuza says, wrinkling her nose at her.

A hint of a smile crosses her face, and she immediately feels guilty, because how _dare_ she feel anything _remotely_ close to good, when he’s still _gone_ , and she never even realized that warm feeling in her chest when she was around him was _lo_ —

She turns toward the shower before Fairuza can read her expression, grabbing random articles of clothing and starting the shower.

When she exits, Fairuza is gone, on her way back to Utopia.

Pree greets her with a smile, and that’s when she knows something’s up.

“What’s wrong.” She states, more than asks, and he hesitates.

She shoots a _look_ at him before turning to Gared, who immediately, unashamedly states that Pree has a fever.

Her eyebrows furrow as she looks the bartender over, determination taking over at the thought of losing someone else she’s learned to care about.

They figure out that it’s the children, and she just _barely_ makes an antidote in time to stop the Royal Families from sending explosives to destroy all of Westerly.

Pree doesn’t remember Gared. He doesn’t remember anything.

The woman who seized looks around, asking about her daughter’s mother, and she feels a dark pit form in her stomach.

_What have I done?_

Gared is now desperately trying to get his husband to remember him, crouched in front of a sitting Pree and holding his hands, a hopeful smile on his face.

Everyone around them is moaning, some taking the antidote, others questioning if they’re willing to risk it.

Three weeks later, they’ve lost contact with the RAC and she’s the only one who vaguely remembers anything.

_D’av will take the bullet, Johnny will fix it, Dutch’ll bring you home._

She clings to that phrase, working with her knowledge, not memories, those are long gone.

_She suffers through five seizures before an amnesiac Pree gives her the antidote, and when she wakes, her memories are gone._

_Good thing she wrote her notes down._

She doesn’t know how long it’s been when two men, _brothers_ , and a woman enter the… bar.

Her hair is long, past her shoulders, almost to her elbows, now and she doesn’t notice them, so focused on collecting notes and making sure the patrons aren’t dead.

“Zephyr?”

Her head shoots up as she spins around, eyes wide.

The brunette man raises his hand in a half wave, as the blonde one steps towards her, concerned.

“You know my name.” She states, before rolling her eyes. “Of _course_ you know my name, you’re the three.”

The woman looks confused, grabbing the blonde’s hand back from where it was reaching for her.

“What three?” the woman asks, and she sighs, gesturing at them to follow her upstairs.

“One will always take the hit, two will fix everything, and three will bring you home. One, two, three. It’s you guys.”

They exchange glances, frowning at her flippant response as she actually stops to point at each of them, as if counting ducks.

“Zeph, what happened?” Blondie asks, and she shrugs.

“I don’t remember. The virus focuses on our memories, for some reason, sending some people into a coma as a side effect. But, I do still know numbers, because that’s knowledge, not memories, and therefore, different.”

She nods to herself, secure that she will never not be smart.

“Zeph?” Brunette dude asks, looking around. “The hells is all of this?”

She looks around, only now noticing how all of her notes look to someone who doesn’t know her system, scattered and messy and barely making sense.

“Hey,” Blondie halfheartedly smiles, elbowing Brunette. “Don’t knock the system.”

He glances toward her, as if referencing some kind of inside joke, but she doesn’t remember it, and his face falls when he realizes that.

“So, what are your names again?” She asks, lifting a brow and pointing at them.

“Dutch, Johnny, D’avin.” The Dutch lady counts off, pointing at each person. “What’ve you got so far?”

She nods, going straight back to business. “Right. Well, I’ve made an antidote for the fever and the seizure-slash-coma, but Pree and that lady still lost their memories, and—” She stops to gasp, looking at the three worriedly.

“Tell me you didn’t touch any of the children.”  
“We didn’t.” Johnny is quick to reassure her, and she sighs in relief.

“Good. Don’t, cuz then you’ll get infected, and that won’t end well for anyone. Especially that little blonde girl who keeps trying to put this weird green stuff in people’s veins.”

Three heads shoot toward her. “I’m sorry, what?” Dutch asks, stepping forward.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a little blonde girl running around out there, calling herself the Lady, or something.” She says, nonchalant.

“Okay,” Johnny nods, “you two go deal with _that_ , Zeph and I are gonna find a cure.”

The other two nod, and they get to work.

It takes her a while to find it.

She’s looking through her equipment for the viral spectrometer, when she finds a photo. It’s her and some other guy, with black hair and a charming smile, and she feels. A flutter. Strangely, sad.

“Who’s Pip?” She asks _“Johnny, I’ll write it down, maybe that’ll help.”_

He looks at her, surprised, so she holds out the photo.

“Who’s Pip?”

Johnny looks at the back, not seeing any words to let anyone know of his name.

“How’d you know his name was Pip?”

She furrows her brows. “I don’t know. Muscle memory?”

“Zeph,” Johnny looks stern. “Talk to me.”

She gasps, memories flashing through her mind quicker than she can handle, almost falling to the floor as Johnny steadies her with his gloved hands.

When it’s over, she looks at Johnny, noticing the other two standing in the doorway, having come when hearing Johnny’s shout.

Tears well in her eyes as she turns to Dutch.

_“You were supposed to bring him home.”_

edn


End file.
